


Kuina's Birthday

by velveteenbandit



Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen, Grieving Kuina, Slice of Life, but sanji knows how to make him open up, not explicitly romantic but you can pretend it is :), zoro doesn't talk about families
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27503806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velveteenbandit/pseuds/velveteenbandit
Summary: “What’s this about?” Zoro asked, annoyed. He really wasn’t in the mood for this. Not today of all days.Sanji fished in his jacket pocket for a moment, then pulled out a box of cigarettes. He picked one, lit it, and took a slow drag. Exhaling, he gestured to the sake bottle, “this what I have on the damn old geezer’s birthday.” Then, he snagged the whiskey bottle out of Zoro’s hand.(Or, the stoic swordsman doesn't talk about his feelings, but Sanji knows how to make him open up.)
Relationships: Roronoa Zoro & Vinsmoke Sanji
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	Kuina's Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> My first One Piece fic! Some details are not specifically canon for the sake fun (for me, writing this). I'd love helpful feedback, especially if I tagged this story incorrectly as I'm new to ao3.
> 
> I'm @velveteenbandit on twitter but I mostly just hoard beautiful fanart in my likes.

Zoro sat down in the Crow’s Nest and popped the cap off his second bottle of whiskey. He took a swig and sighed, leaning his elbow against the window.

_Franky really did a nice job with this ship_ , he thought. Things had finally calmed down after the mess that was Enies Lobby. The crew was finally back together after almost losing Robin and Usopp, and Franky’s shipbuilding skills had been a welcome addition to the group.

The swordsman took another drink, and sighed. Throughout the ordeal he knew everything would turn out alright. He had faith in his captain, and his crew. But still, it was nice to appreciate this peaceful moment.

_Things can change when you least expe-_

The door swung open and footsteps approached him. 

Zoro sighed in annoyance, not looking away from the window. _How is it possible for even his footsteps to be so pompous?_

Sanji took a seat on the bench near the swordsman. After several minutes of ignoring the intruder failed to make him disappear, Zoro looked at the cook. He cocked an eyebrow in surprise. Sanji had set up three cups and a bottle of sake between them.

“What’s this about?” Zoro asked, annoyed. He really wasn’t in the mood for this. Not _today_ of all days.

Sanji fished in his jacket pocket for a moment, then pulled out a box of cigarettes. He picked one, lit it, and took a slow drag. Exhaling, he gestured to the sake bottle, “this what I have on the damn old geezer’s birthday.” Then, he snagged the whiskey bottle out of Zoro’s hand.

“What’s your problem, asshole?!” Zoro snapped. If he wasn’t pleasantly buzzed, he could have caught the bottle. But really, he didn’t feel like fighting. It was a rare occasion.

“This stuff is crap,” Sanji remarked, setting the bottle aside. “Not fit for today.”

Zoro stared at the cook, perplexed by his actions.

“I know what day it is, moss head” Sanji said. Zoro saw a flash of exasperation on the cook’s face.

“Wednesday?”

Sanji scanned the floor. He spotted the cap to the whiskey bottle Zoro had tossed aside. “You had to realize I wouldn’t give you easy access to the good liquor,” Sanji said, bending down to pluck the cap from the floor and screw it back on the bottle.

Zoro’s expression remained neutral despite his confusion. He looked at the cups, and then the bottle. It looked expensive. Out of a thousand scenarios Zoro imagined, he could not think of one that involved Sanji bringing him good alcohol.

“You’re shit at remembering people,” Sanji finally said. “This,” he held up the whiskey bottle, “isn’t how you do it.”

_Remembering?_ Zoro’s stomach dropped. _He couldn’t know about...?_

Zoro watched Sanji fill two cups from the bottle in silence. He tried to find a reason for this interaction besides the one that was creeping to the forefront of his mind. 

“You heard.” Zoro said in an even tone, wishing it was a question. He was thankful the glow of alcohol hid the flush of red across his face. When the arrogant cook was in a coma a few weeks ago, Chopper insisted that everyone took shifts talking to him, hopeful it would speed along recovery. Zoro’s jaw clenched with the realization that the idiot remembered what he talked about.

“I heard, I remember. Parts of it at least,” Sanji waved his hand as if to disperse the tension.

Zoro wasn’t sure why the idiot cook wasn’t aggressively mocking him. Maybe he was going for a slow burn. _Maybe he was faking his ailment to hear some tearful admiration from Nami or Robin._ Well, Zoro saw the injuries firsthand, they were most certainly real.

Sanji picked up his cup and held it towards Zoro, “to Kuina” he said earnestly. 

“To... Kuina,” Zoro’s voice sounded strange to his own ears as he clinked his cup to Sanji’s.

The cook made shrimp tempura for dinner. Zoro thought this was a happy coincidence. He didn’t expect that Sanji would remember Zoro recounting to him that this was Kuina’s favorite dish and how she always wanted it on her birthday. He didn’t think Sanji heard him mention that, now that he thought about it, Kuina’s birthday was coming up.

In fact, he hadn’t expected to talk about Kuina at all. But when he looked at Sanji laying on the infirmary bed, so still and motionless. He couldn’t help but think of the last time he ever looked at Kuina, so still and motionless.

Sanji worked through his cigarette, eyes fixed on the horizon. After it was finished, he took out another and lit it. Zoro looked at the floor between sips. For all the bickering they did, silence between the two men wasn’t rare. Silence between them was usually comfortable. However, this silence was a little tense.

An endless onslaught of enemies was no problem to the swordsman, so why was having a conversation about his past so hard?

He didn’t talk about his past emotional trauma with other people, least of all the cook. What was the point? His goal, to become the World’s Greatest Swordsman, was clear, and that’s all that mattered. Thoughts of Kuina, her death, where she would be now... they lived inside his head. Hearing her name out loud was jarring, especially coming from the shitty cook. Zoro wasn’t a nostalgic man. If he hadn’t been on his second bottle of whiskey, if the crew hadn’t recently been in such grave danger, if today wasn’t Kuina’s birthday...

_How old would she be today?_ He was never good with dates, and the years kept slipping by.

It felt strange, awkward, to be vulnerable. He looked at Sanji, and concluded that this wasn’t an elaborate prank.

“What?” Sanji asked, noticing the swordsman’s stare.

Zoro’s jaw twitched. _Why is it so hard to be sincere?_

“What? Can’t hold your liquor?”

Because it’s the shitty cook. But he could do this.

“I’m surprised an idiot cook can be this thoughtful.”

Well. He tried.

Sanji raised an eyebrow, then chuckled as he took a drink.

Zoro laughed, Sanji’s posture relaxed.

The sunset splayed pinks and oranges in the sky. The _Thousand Sunny_ was rocking gently in calm waters. Zoro looked around the Crow’s Nest and marveled at its expert construction. This life _was_ nice _._ Of course there were challenges: dealing with internal disputes, occasionally having to rescue a kidnapped and blackmailed crew member, getting through a single meal without destroying furniture in a fight with the cook.

But it wasn’t so bad. In fact, it was pretty great.

“I don’t feel bad most of the time.” Zoro was startled at how the words plainly tumbled out of his mouth.

“About?”

“Kuina. I mean, I feel bad about it _sometimes_ , but not all the time. I wasn’t even thinking about her much today until I was alone up here. Maybe that’s bad... I don’t know.”

Sanji looked back to the sunset, silent for a moment. He shrugged a shoulder. “You’ve got her sword, her dream. Dwelling probably doesn’t do much good.”

Zoro nodded. His dream, Kuina’s dream. One of them would be the strongest in the world. Now it was up to him to achieve it. “I used to be so angry all the time. I couldn’t think about anything else, and now I just wonder...” he trailed off.

“She wouldn’t want you to mope about for the rest of your life,” Sanji said, taking a slow drag from his cigarette.

Zoro grimaced. The cook had struck a nerve, reminding him of the empty niceties spewed by adults at Kuina’s funeral.

\---

_The room was bustling in a quiet sort of way, hushed tones exchanging condolences. Yellow and white flowers contrasted against the dark wood of the walls. The candles burning cast a flickering glow around the space. At the front of the room, Kuina’s body lay in a simple coffin. Zoro had already seen it once, but his eyes didn’t believe it. He knew Kuina was dead, but he expected to see her stir from the slumber she appeared to be in._

_He was seated near the back of the room, working up the courage to go look at her body again. Maybe if he saw her again, he would understand._

_Nearby, a group of adults were softly speaking with each other. A few were parents of other students at the dojo. They recognized Zoro and spoke to him._

_“She would want to see us smiling, not frowning!”_

_“She would be so happy to see you working hard doing what she loved!”_

_“She’s a reminder to live every day to the fullest!”_

_Zoro’s small fists were balled up at his sides, he trembled with rage._

_“Don’t say that,” he spat back, “she doesn’t want anything now!” He was yelling but he didn’t care. “How can you say she would want something? She didn’t know she was going to die!”_

_Tears welled for a moment in Zoro’s eyes. When they cleared he saw everyone in the room looking at him, expressions ranging from shock to pity. They all made him so angry. Zoro didn’t have words. He stood up and stormed out._

_He returned some time later, when most people were gone. He saw Kuina’s body again, and tried to make his eyes believe it._

\---

Begrudgingly, Zoro knew there was an inkling of truth to Sanji’s words. If given the knowledge and time to think about it, Kuina would be happy to know Zoro was achieving their dream. She wouldn’t want him to wallow in grief. Most of the time, he didn’t. But what better time to wallow than the evening of your dead childhood best friend’s birthday?

Best friend. Had he and Kuina been best friends? They never shared lazy days watching clouds, chasing bugs, having heart-to-hearts. They trained. Kuina was a target to surpass, an inspiration to work harder and push himself. Over the years, Zoro wondered if ‘best friend’ was the right term for this type of relationship. He decided that for him, it was.

“I just mean sulking doesn’t do any good,” Sanji added a bit defensively.

“I _know_ that!” Zoro snapped back.

Kuina had anger inside her at the clash between her dream and the body she was born with. Now Zoro carried anger at the thought of what she would have been. He liked having a piece of her fire. 

When he was young, the rage consumed him. Countless evenings were spent training at the dojo with hot angry tears rolling down his face, long after everyone else had gone home. Over time the tempest dulled to a quiet flame, only flaring when provoked. _How many worthless people have we come across on this journey? People who don’t appreciate all the time they have._ Zoro would never understand why people like that got so much time when Kuina got so little.

Zoro looked at the cook, who was looking in his direction, but not right at him. He wondered if the other man also felt awkward in this uncharted territory.

Sometimes Zoro wondered if he had lost the anger. It never consumed him as fully as it once did. Had it shriveled up over the years? He was so focused on the present and the future he was worried he’d lose his past.

But those words, coming from Sanji, stoked the flame. He searched for the words to describe the idea that ran through his mind countless times.

“She was going to be something really special, but she didn’t have time. She was... so young, but she understood so much.” Zoro’s voice was weary, but not sad.

“For someone worried about being apathetic, it sounds like you still care quite a bit,” Sanji said, eyebrow raised with a touch of derision as he refilled Zoro’s cup.

“You just have a talent for making my blood boil, shitty cook.”

Sanji chortled into his sake cup.

A beat passed.

“Sometimes it’s nice to dwell on it,” Zoro said, then scoffed at himself. For all the time he spent thinking about other things, training, meditating. Zoro felt the most calm and centered when he felt heaviness in his heart. Feeling sad about Kuina felt like home. It felt silly when he thought about it.

Sanji’s expression was serious. “Something like that becomes a part of you. It shapes your personality in ways you don’t realize.”

“To your sage wisdom,” Zoro said, holding his cup up for a sarcastic toast.

Sanji smirked as he returned the gesture. “Well,” he said leaning back and crossing one leg over the other, “I suppose that explains why you get so bent out of shape with Tashigi. And women in general.”

“Oh, and you do _well_ in that regard?” Zoro retorted.

Sanji rolled his eyes. “So,” he continued, “if she was still here would the world be cursed with little moss head demons running around?”

Zoro snorted. “I don’t know. We were so young, I have no idea what would have happened.” He looked at the already empty cup in his hand. He set it on the table and refilled it, then did the same for Sanji’s. “She’s a big, bright unknown.”

Sanji looked into his sake, wistfully, “oh, what could have been. My life, free from this idiot swordsman.”

Zoro narrowed his eyes at Sanji, who smirked. A moment passed. 

“Either way, the poor girl was saved from a lifetime of knowing _you_ ,” Sanji said dryly.

Zoro cracked a smile, which turned into a laugh. “It would have been worse if she had met you, you’d fall head over heels so fast you’d be overboard.”

It was Sanji’s turn to laugh. “If this ship had _three_ beautiful ladies and was free of you... it’s enough to make a man reconsider the All Blue.”

Zoro’s heart ached at the thought of Kuina meeting the Strawhats. Endless adventures, mealtimes filled with laughter, pushing themselves to be the best they could be. What would she have thought about Luffy’s chaotic personality, and Zoro’s decision to join his crew? He smiled at the thought of her walloping Sanji for showering her with praises. It was fun to think about, but it hurt. It would have been so much goddamn fun.

They drank in silence for a bit. Sanji finished his cigarette, then lit another one. Then he finished that one too.

After the sky was finally dark, Sanji stood up and stretched. “Well, those dishes won’t clean themselves. I’ve got a couple more bottles of this stowed away,” he gestured to the sake bottle, “I’ll leave this here?”

“Thanks.”

“Well, my unsolicited but spot on advice is to reminisce, but for once, don’t get lost.” Sanji filled the third sake cup and then set the bottle beside it. Then he picked up the whiskey bottle and his empty sake cup, “I’ll put this back in the usual spot.”

“I’m not beside myself with grief, you idiot. I was doing just fine before I met you all.”

“Sure, but now you’ve got us,” Sanji said as he walked toward the ladder, “none of us are alone anymore.”

Zoro frowned at the now full third cup Sanji left behind. 

Before he could think of a response, the cook was gone.

The swordsman took Wado, which was leaning against the bench, and placed it next to the third cup. He smiled to himself. This was certainly different from the cheap liquor and dingy bars he usually spent this particular evening with.

He felt Kuina’s birthdays would look different from now on. And maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.


End file.
